The Curse
by Red Hardy
Summary: Halloween is fast approaching and with it a series of bizarre mishaps for Frank, Joe and their loved ones. Is it coincidence or a curse?
1. Chapter 1

A short, little Halloween story I wrote several years ago. Hopefully it'll make you smile, chuckle or, if I was on top of my game, laugh out loud. Thanks for reading. :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 1**

Twenty-four-year-old Frank Hardy struggled to hold onto the woman who was desperately trying to break free of his grasp.

"Let me go!" she screamed, attempting to kick him in the shin.

"Calm down!" Frank replied, trying to avoid the woman's black high-heeled boots without falling flat on his back.

"HELP!" the raven-haired woman screamed at the top of her lungs. "SOMEONE HELP ME!!"

"Oh, great," Frank muttered, trying to yank his arm out of the way as the woman changed tactics and now tried to bite him.

"Having a little trouble there, big brother?" a mischievous voice asked.

Frank took a second to glare at his younger brother. "I could use a little help here, Joe."

Joe Hardy stood next to his own "prisoner", arms crossed over his muscular chest, chuckling at his brother's more troublesome charge. Joe glanced down at the young girl sitting on the sidewalk, her hands cuffed behind her back. He took in her deep emerald green eyes and auburn hair, wild with curls that seemed to have a mind of their own.

"Don't move, okay?" he winked at her.

"I won't." She was practically beaming at him.

"_JOE!!_" Frank suddenly cried out, trying to jerk his head back out of the woman's reach.

Joe looked up just in time to see the woman's long red fingernails rake across Frank's cheek, leaving three angry looking scratches. Rushing to his brother's side, Joe helped him wrestle the woman to the ground and put handcuffs on her. Just as they got her seated next to the young girl, a Bayport Police car pulled up in front of them. An officer with brown hair and hazel eyes stepped out, eyeing the scene with barely concealed amusement.

"Hey, Con." Joe greeted him with a smile.

Detective Con Riley, a good friend of the Hardys, nodded at Joe then glanced from the two women seated on the ground back to Joe and finally at Frank. Noticing the woman still breathing heavily and Frank, with fresh scratches on his face, he attempted to keep a straight face.

"Have a little problem with your suspect, Frank?" Con asked, seriously. "Should I call for backup?"

"Ha, ha." Frank blotted at his face with a handkerchief. "Great. I'm bleeding."

"Can't wait to see how you explain this one to Callie," Joe teased, referring to his brother's wife of three short months.

"Just take them down to the station and book them, Con. Joe and I will be right behind you," Frank said to the officer, all the while glaring at his younger brother.

"Whatever you say. Let's go ladies." Con reached down to help the young girl to her feet. Stopping he peered at her closely. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," she replied brightly.

Con rolled his eyes as he assisted her into the back of the police car. Turning back, he started to reach for the older woman's arm and stopped, wagging a finger at her. "No scratching."

"She bites too," Frank warned him, glowering at the woman. "And watch those heels."

Frank's warnings were not needed however as the woman sedately slid into the car, staring straight ahead.

"See you at the station," the young girl called out the window, smiling shyly at Joe.

Joe flashed her a grin and waved as the car pulled out into traffic.

"She's jail bait, Joe. Besides, I think Vanessa would be a little upset if she saw how interested you were in a suspect!" Frank informed his brother, referring to Joe's twenty-two-year-old, longtime girlfriend Vanessa Bender.

"Oh, please, Frank. She's just a nice kid whose mother is a kook!" Joe replied, annoyed. "And I'm not interested in her, so Van has nothing to get upset about."

"Yeah, well she seems to be very interested in you." Frank started walking towards his car. "So be careful."

Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Can I help it if women find me irresistible?"

Following his brother, Joe got into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt. He waited until Frank pulled out into traffic then turned to his brother and grinned wickedly. "So can I watch when you explain those scratches to Callie?"

oooOOOooo

A few hours later, Frank and Joe were leaving the Bayport Police Department, having completed all the necessary paperwork to file charges against Cassandra and her mother.

"I just can't believe a parent would teach their kid it's okay to steal!" Joe was still incredulous at what their latest investigation had turned up.

Bayport's local farmer's market, that was packed with customers every weekend, had recently fallen victim to a pickpocket who had taken up residence in their midst. And the perpetrator was very good at what they did. No one ever saw a thing, yet customers were losing their wallets at an alarming rate. It had gotten so bad that customers had been driven away and profits were falling dramatically. The worried merchants had banded together and hired the Hardys to root out the thief.

Frank and Joe had staked out the farmer's market for two days before zeroing in on their suspects. A mother-daughter team who appeared so innocent no one would give them a second glance. The sweet, sixteen-year-old girl would distract the target while her mother easily removed their wallet from a pocket or purse. Joe had been stunned to find out the young girl had been thoroughly trained in the art of stealing from her obviously experienced mother.

"Not every kid is as a lucky as we were, Joe," Frank replied, referring indirectly to their parents, Fenton and Laura Hardy. "Dad taught us what he knows best and it looks like Cassandra's mother did the same for her. Too bad it's illegal."

"I guess." Joe shook his head. "I hope she'll be okay in foster care for a while."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Joe." Frank glanced at his younger brother. "So don't go getting any ideas." Frank had visions of Joe turning up on their parent's doorstep with Cassandra in tow, begging his mother to take care of the naïve young girl until her own mother was released from jail.

Joe merely stuck his tongue out at his brother's back in reply, as he followed Frank across the lobby of the police station. Just as they got to the doors, they heard Con Riley calling out to them.

"Hey, guys. Hold up a second." He jogged over to the brothers. "One of your suspects would like a word with you before you go."

"Must be yours." Frank rolled his eyes at his brother, wondering how Joe seemingly had the ability to attract women simply by breathing.

Con smiled. "Actually, it was yours. And she wants to see both of you." He jerked his head as he turned, indicating the brothers should follow him.

Taking the elevator to the basement, he led them to a holding cell where the woman and her daughter were seated on a cot.

The young girl jumped up, smiling broadly when she saw Joe. "Hi, Joe!"

"Hello, Cassandra." Joe smiled back until Frank elbowed him in the ribs.

"You wanted to see us?" Frank spoke to the older woman.

"Yes." She got up and gracefully walked to the front of the cell.

_"From the waters below_

_To the heavens above_

_A curse on you_

_And those you love_

_The spell will remain_

_Bad luck won't leave_

_Until the unthinkable occurs_

_On All Hallow's Eve."_

"Mom!!" Cassandra cried out, angrily. "How could you?!"

Smiling at the Hardys, the older woman returned to the cot and lay down, staring at the ceiling.

"How could she what?" Joe asked, confused.

"She just put a curse on you." Cassandra replied apologetically, staring at Joe.

"A _what_?!" Joe gaped.

"A curse," Cassandra repeated. "We're witches."


	2. Chapter 2

LOL, Miss Fenway! Yes, Joe is nice and healthy in this one! :p

Thanks to everyone for the reviews and thank you to all who are reading. Hope you continue to enjoy! :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 2**

"I can't believe it," Joe muttered, staring out the passenger side window of his brother's car.

"Can't believe what." Frank took his eyes off the road for a second to steal a glance at his younger brother.

"What she did to us!" Joe cried out.

"Who? Cassandra's mother?"

"Yes, Cassandra's mother! She put a curse on us, Frank. We're _cursed_! Bad luck for who knows how long," Joe moaned.

"Joe, we are not cursed," Frank said, amused at his brother's apparent despair. "And it supposedly ends on Mischief Night, when '_the unthinkable occurs'_." He finished in a ghoulish voice repeating the last line of the curse.

"They're witches," Joe said ominously. "If anyone knows how to curse you, it's a witch."

"Joe, do you know anything about the Wiccan religion?"

Joe looked at him, puzzled. "The what?"

"The Wiccan religion. Witches are not witches in the sense of people who fly around on broomsticks putting curses on people. There is a religion they follow, just as other people follow the religions they believe in. These witches may use spells and charms but it's usually for things like finding love, or prosperity or _banishing_ bad luck. Not for cursing innocent people."

Joe stared at his brother in astonishment.

"What?" Frank felt like he suddenly had a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

"Doesn't your brain have some kind of quota on the amount of useless information it can hold?" Joe asked.

"It's not useless," Frank snapped, reddening in embarrassment. "And you have just as much useless information in that hard head of yours. It's just that your brain is full of useless information about sports and women."

Joe grinned. "The two most important things in life."

"Oh, please," Frank muttered. "Besides, my so-called _useless_ information just helped you, didn't it?"

"How did it help me? We're still cursed!"

Frank turned to glare at his brother and yelled, "WE ARE NOT CURS-"

"Frank, look out!!" Joe frantically pointed at something out the front window.

Frank snapped his head forward and gasped. A huge pothole loomed in the road just ahead. Turning the steering wheel as hard as he could, Frank tried to avoid the large crater in the road without success.

"OW!!" Joe cried out as his head was smacked against the roof of the car by the force of the impact with the pothole. "Are you trying to _kill_ me?!"

The intermittent bumping and thumping as he continued down the road told Frank he now had a flat tire. Disgustedly, he pulled off the road and got out of the car to check the damage. Joe followed a bit more slowly and stood beside his brother gazing at the mangled tire, absently rubbing his head where it had made contact with the roof of the car.

"Wow. You did a good job," Joe observed. "That'll cost you a good chunk of change to get fixed. Maybe you should ask Dad for a raise."

Frank turned on him with a murderous look. "Change it!" he ordered.

"Me?!" Joe said, incredulous. "It's _your_ car!"

"And it's _your_ fault I hit the stupid pothole to begin with! If you hadn't been ranting and raving about witches and curses, I would have seen it!" Frank yelled, the veins on his neck popping out.

"Okay, okay," Joe said, irritated. "Geez, you don't have to get all huffy about it. I would have changed it anyway, just because I'm a nice guy."

Frank simply growled at him as he walked to the trunk to remove the spare tire and tools Joe needed to change the tire. Standing over his brother, still smoldering, Frank watched as Joe jacked the car up, removed the damaged tire and put the spare on.

Joe was tightening the lug nuts when the wrench seemed to stick on the last one. Tugging and pulling, Joe couldn't get the wrench to come free. Readjusting his hands to get a tighter grip on the wrench, Joe pulled as hard as he could. Without warning the wrench came free, slamming Joe's hand between the frame of the car and the wrench. With a loud yelp, Joe dropped the wrench and jumped up, cradling his injured hand as he reeled off a string of colorful words, a few of which Frank had never even heard before.

"Let me see," Frank said, trying to get Joe to stand still long enough for him to check the injury. Hopping from one foot to the other, Joe held out his hand.

"Wiggle your fingers," Frank ordered, examining Joe's hand.

Joe did as he was told, wincing slightly.

"Make a fist," came the second order.

Again Joe did as Frank asked. "Ouch!" he cried out, stopping before his fingers curled in on his hand completely.

"Well, you can still move it, so I doubt that it's broken. You'll probably just have a nasty bruise." Frank bent to pick up the tools Joe had discarded and returned them to the trunk.

"Gee, thanks for your concern," Joe called out sarcastically, getting back in the car. Seconds later, Frank joined him.

"See. It's started already," Joe said knowingly.

"What has started?" Frank checked the rearview and side mirrors and then pulled back onto the road.

"The curse," Joe replied with raised eyebrows.

"There is no curse, Joe! I hit a pothole. A very _large_ pothole. And I hit it because YOU distracted me!" Frank retorted, coming to a stop at the red light. "You can't possibly believe in that stuff?"

"I never did until now."

Frank looked at him, exasperated. "_Joe!!_"

"Well…it's possible. You get a flat. I hurt my hand changing it. How else do you explain it?"

Frank shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not even going dignify that with an answer."

As Frank gazed at the light, waiting for it to change to green, Joe's hand suddenly appeared in front of his face.

"Does my finger look blue to you?" Joe asked, seriously.

Frank gave a cursory glance to Joe's finger before looking back at the light. "Looks just as happy as the rest of them," he quipped.

Joe threw his brother a dirty look. "Very funny. It _hurts_," he whined, pulling his hand back and peering closely at his slightly swollen finger.

Frank threw him a sideways look, amused. "Maybe I should take you to the E.R. It could be broken, you know," he said ominously. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Frank saw Joe's expression start to change. "Who knows, you might even need surgery to repair the damage. Then some physical therapy to make sure you regain full use of your hand. I hear that's really painful!" Frank concluded with a straight face.

"Okay, okay, you made your point," Joe grumbled.

"Stop pouting!" Frank laughed. "I'm sure when you see Vanessa she will be more than happy to kiss it and make it better."

"Yeah…" Joe perked up considerably, wondering just how much he could embellish his minor injury to get the maximum amount of sympathy from his girlfriend without arousing her suspicions.

oooOOOooo

Thirty minutes later, Frank pulled into the driveway of his house noting the cars of their friends parked up and down the street. "Looks like we're late."

"Good. Maybe we missed the 'planning' stage and all we'll have to do is eat." Joe was examining his injured hand while flexing his fingers.

The Hardys and their friends were planning a Halloween party for Mischief Night to be held at an old mansion on the outskirts of Bayport. Legend had it that its original owners, who had been murdered in the attic over fifty years earlier, haunted the old house. Subsequent owners never stayed in the house very long, scared away by strange, unexplained occurrences.

Everything would start out fine for the new occupants, until they ventured into the attic. When they finally did, all of them swore they saw the ghosts of the murdered couple in there. Word soon got around and potential buyers eventually dried up. Finally, an enterprising realty company bought the mansion and rented it out for parties, with the days at the end of October being the most in demand.

Chet Morton, his girlfriend Liz Webling, Biff Hooper, his girlfriend Karen Allen, Tony Prito and Phil Cohen were meeting at Frank and Callie's home that evening, along with Joe and Vanessa to divvy up the responsibilities for the upcoming party.

"I still can't believe Chet was able to book the mansion for the night before Halloween," Frank commented as he and Joe walked towards the house.

"He just lucked out. He happened to walk into the realty office two minutes after they got a cancellation," Joe grinned, following Frank through the front door.

Entering the living room, Frank and Joe saw Callie, Vanessa and their friends scattered about the room sprawled on the couch, chairs, love seat and floor, engrossed in hashing out the details for the festivities.

"Hey, you made it!" Vanessa said upon seeing them enter. Jumping up, she ran to Joe, throwing her arms around his neck and greeting him with a lingering kiss.

"Did you catch your thief?" Callie asked glancing up from the paper she was making notes on and smiling at her husband. She patted the spot on the couch next to her that Vanessa had just vacated before she resumed her note taking.

"Whoa, Frank! What happened to your face?!" Chet cried out as Frank stepped over him and Liz who were seated on the floor.

Immediately Callie's head snapped up looking at Frank intently, who was suddenly the center of attention. She gasped at the three angry scratches that stood out vividly on his cheek.

"Ouch!" Biff exclaimed, wincing.

"That looks like it hurt," his girlfriend Karen added.

Frank took a seat next to Callie. "It did."

"So?" Tony inquired with raised eyebrows.

"So what?" Frank responded, offering no explanation.

"So what happened?" Phil asked, his hazel eyes twinkling as he reiterated Chet's question. "How'd you get the scratches?"

"In the line of duty," Frank replied vaguely, as Callie turned his face towards her and examined the bright red marks.

"That's it?" Callie asked, arching an eyebrow. "_In the line of duty_ is the entire explanation?"

"Well, there was this woman…" Joe began with a wicked grin, as he stood behind Vanessa, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. When Frank shot him a murderous look, his grin widened.

"Really?" Callie looked at Frank questioningly.

"This woman was the alleged thief," Frank explained, glaring at his brother. "And if Joe had helped me when I first asked, there would _be_ no scratches."

"She tried to bite him, too," Joe informed Callie teasingly, ignoring Frank's killer stare. "But he was too quick for her."

"Wait a minute. Frank, you couldn't handle this woman without Joe's help?" Biff looked at Joe and winked conspiratorially. "You might want to start thinking about changing careers, old man."

"So the thief was a woman?" Callie asked, a little surprised.

"Two, actually. A woman and her sixteen-year-old daughter, if you can believe it."

"Her _daughter_?" Phil said in disbelief.

"Mm-hmm, her daughter…who seems to have developed an instant crush on Joe," Frank replied, smiling at Joe smugly.

"And you should be glad," Joe retorted. "Otherwise, we would have been cursed _twice_! Once is bad enough." He held up his hand, which had started to swell and develop an ugly bruise.

"Joe! What happened to your hand?" Vanessa asked, taking his hand in hers gently and examining it.

"The curse," Joe replied ominously, before Frank could speak.

"Curse?" Biff laughed. "This I gotta hear."

"Turns out the mother-daughter tag team are witches."

"And Mom was none too happy that we caught them. So she put a curse on us," Frank finished for his brother.

"What kind of curse?" Callie asked.

"We're supposed to have bad luck for the next several days. Until Mischief Night when the 'unthinkable' happens."

"Uh, didn't you leave something out, Frank?" Joe questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Oh…yeah. She didn't just curse us," Frank said, looking from Callie to Vanessa. "I think she cursed you too."


	3. Chapter 3

Whitetigers: So glad you're enjoying this the second time around! Thanks for reading – and commenting! :-)

Miss Fenway: I promise, any injuries incurred by Joe – and any other character – in this story will be minor. ;-)

Josie: Yes, it's gonna stay funny! :-p And _my_ useless information has to do with classic rock, MASH and exercise/health/fitness.

MissMe113: LOL! Yeah, Frank was pretty cavalier about it. Then again, he doesn't believe in curses. ;-)

TraSan: Look, chapter THREE! LOL! See, you have lots of useless information in your brain, too! :p

Polaris: Yup, you're right about the 'harming none', and Frank did point out to Joe that Wiccans believe in helping others, not hurting. It's been several years since I wrote this but I did do my research on the Wiccan religion and found an entry about curses and spells (but as Frank said, it would more likely be for something like prosperity or good health); that's what gave me the idea for a curse on the boys. :p Just like any other religion where a few people take their beliefs to the extreme, I'm sure there are a few 'bad apple' Wiccans who wouldn't think twice about cursing someone negatively so Cassandra's mother would be one of those. ;-)

Alicia: Glad you're enjoying it! :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 3**

The following day, Joe stretched out on the couch with a contented sigh. He was looking forward to one of his favorite fall rituals – college football. Every Saturday, Joe would spend the afternoon either with his brother and their friends, or home alone, watching one college game after another. Vanessa indulged his love affair with football by going to the gym and then visiting her mother or shopping with friends, leaving Joe to enjoy his obsession. After the last game had concluded, they would usually meet up with Frank and Callie for dinner or a movie.

Making sure he had enough chips, soda and other assorted junk food on hand, Joe settled in for the opening kickoff of the first game when the phone rang. Groaning at the lousy timing, he briefly considered letting the machine pick it up when his conscience got the better of him. Reaching over to the end table, he grabbed the receiver.

"Hello," he growled, making sure the caller knew he was not happy about being disturbed.

"Joe. It's Biff"

"Hey, what's up? I thought you were working today?"

"That's where I'm calling from." Biff managed the fitness center both Joe, Vanessa and most of their friends were members. "Listen, don't get all worked up because it's not really that bad, but Vanessa got hurt in kickboxing class."

Joe was instantly on his feet, all thoughts of football gone. "What?! How? How bad is it?" he cried out, already worried about his girlfriend.

"Take it easy, buddy. It's just a sprained ankle. But it's her left ankle so she can't drive a stick shift. Can you come down and pick her up? I'll get the Jeep back to her later this afternoon."

"I'm on my way." Joe hung up, abruptly ending the conversation.

Grabbing his keys he flew out the door of the apartment he had shared with Vanessa ever since they graduated from college. Slamming it shut behind him, the sounds of the football game floated out of the T.V. into the now empty living room.

Less than ten minutes later, Joe was running through the doors of the fitness center, his worried blue eyes scanning the lobby. Seeing Vanessa seated on a small couch in the lounge area, Biff sitting next to her, he hurried over.

"What happened, Babe?" Joe sat down on the other side of her taking her hand and looking at her with concern. Glancing at her left foot, which was now resting on a small cushion on a stool, wrapped in an ace bandage and sporting an ice pack, he winced.

"I tripped and fell," she said, embarrassed.

"But you've been taking that class forever. You could probably do it in your sleep!"

"I know. I guess I got a little overzealous and bobbed when I should have weaved." Vanessa shrugged. "Either that or the curse is working really well," she winked at him.

Joe looked at her for a moment and then broke into a sheepish grin.

"At least I know _I'm_ safe, since it only covers you and those you love," Biff teased Joe and then turned back to Vanessa. "I'll make sure you get your Jeep back this afternoon. Now remember to take it easy today. Go home and let Joe wait on you all day."

Vanessa gave Joe a sidelong glance and grinned slyly. "Hmmm. Maybe a sprained ankle isn't so bad after all."

Joe leaned in and kissed her, relieved that her injury wasn't serious. "Your wish is my command."

"Don't forget to keep your foot elevated and ice it but no more than twenty minutes at a time. It'll keep the swelling down," Biff instructed as he stood up.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Hooper," Vanessa replied seriously.

oooOOOooo

Later that evening Vanessa sat on the couch, her ankle propped up on the coffee table atop a soft pillow. Callie sat to her left on the loveseat, looking at the various 'supplies' surrounding Vanessa, all within easy reach.

"I see Joe's been taking good care of you. He's got everything out here but the kitchen sink," she laughed.

Vanessa leaned forward slightly and smiled. "He hasn't left my side all day, constantly asking me if I'm comfortable, if there's anything I need. Almost makes the sprained ankle worth it," she joked. "Really, though. He's been so sweet. He even asked if I wanted to watch something on T.V."

"What?!" Callie exclaimed. "But it's Saturday! College football!"

"I know," Vanessa nodded, surprised. "But he kept insisting we could watch whatever _I _wanted."

"I hope you took him up on it."

Vanessa shook her head. "Nah. It was actually kinda nice just to sit with him all afternoon, just the two of us. Even if I was reading books and magazines and he was yelling at the T.V. the whole time," she laughed.

Callie glanced back over her shoulder at Frank and Joe who were filling plates with the food she and Frank had picked up at Prito's Italian Restaurant on the way over.

"Sooooo… has Joe said anything at all about…you know…marriage? Or at least getting engaged?" Callie whispered hopefully.

The smile disappeared from Vanessa's face instantly as she shook her head. "I don't get it, Callie. I mean take today for instance. He was so worried about me. Even after he saw it wasn't really serious, he still wouldn't leave me alone for a second. He _acts_ like I'm "the one", but he seems perfectly happy with the way things are. I'm starting to think he never wants to get married," she finished dejectedly.

Callie now felt bad for bringing up the subject. It was obvious Joe was madly in love with Vanessa; they had been together for six years now and it was apparent to everyone who knew them that they were perfect for each other. Callie wondered if Joe would come to this realization before Vanessa got tired of waiting for a proposal and left him.

"You want me to ask Frank to knock some sense into him?" Callie joked.

Vanessa gave her a wan smile. "No. Besides, it's not _that_ big a deal. I mean it's just a ring and a piece of paper, right? We've been together forever. He treats me like a princess. I _know_ he loves me. That's enough…isn't it?"

"He does love you, Van. Very much." Callie leaned forward and patted Vanessa on the leg. "And your birthday is next month. And Christmas the following month. Who knows, maybe you'll get a big surprise," she finished, trying to cheer Vanessa up.

"Maybe," Vanessa shrugged, although her heart wasn't quite sure. "Anyway, I already have Joe. I don't need anything else." She forced a smile. Callie noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.

…

In the kitchen, Frank and Joe were doling out food and drinks to take back into the living room so Vanessa wouldn't have to get up.

"Do you remember Harold Kruziak?" Frank asked, reaching for the container of pasta.

"Yeah. He's still in prison. Has another few years to go, right?" Joe replied, recalling the man they had sent to prison several years earlier for kidnapping and domestic abuse.

"Wrong. He's been out for a month."

"That can't be right!" Joe exclaimed quickly doing the math in his head. "He's still got almost two years left on his sentence."

"He got out on parole with time off for good behavior."

"What?! But…he…they…" Joe sputtered, incredulous.

"Dad just got the letter this morning letting him know Kruziak had been paroled."

"And he was released a _month_ ago?!" Joe couldn't believe it.

Frank shrugged and licked some tomato sauce off his finger. "Budget cuts. They just got around to sending the notification this week."

"We could've been killed by the time they decided to let us know the guy was out." Joe snorted. "He _did_ threaten to murder us as soon as he got out, in case they forgot."

"Yeah, but apparently he turned over a new leaf in prison."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Don't they all."

"Dad checked him out right away. Seems he's been working as a mechanic in Southport at a cousin's auto repair shop. He hasn't so much as gotten a ticket for jaywalking."

"Still, they could have told us sooner. I bet it's the curse."

"He got out a month ago. We were just cursed yesterday," Frank reminded him, amused.

"Yeah, but we just found out today that he got out last month. I'm telling you it's the curse," Joe said confident he knew what he was talking about.

Frank just stared at his brother in utter confusion.

"It's like this…" Joe started to explain.

"Stop!" Frank commanded, holding up a hand. "I don't even want to know."

"Why not?" Joe asked, hurt.

"I'm afraid you might actually make sense. Then I'll _know_ the curse is working." Frank picked up two plates and headed for the living room.

Joe wrinkled his nose at his brother's retreating back. "It _would_ make sense," he said to himself, pouting. "And it _is_ the curse." Joe picked up the other two plates and started towards the living room. "You better start taking it seriously, Frank, or you'll be next."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! And thanks to all who are reading. :-)

For those who aren't familiar with it, the night before Halloween – October 30th – is often referred to as Mischief Night in the U.S. (and Canada too I think, but I wouldn't swear to it. :p). At least it was back in the 'olden days' when I was a kid. ;-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 4**

Frank began to slow down his pace slightly, nearing the end of his run. Sunday morning runs on the beach were his favorite. He rarely saw another person and loved the solitude. Enjoying the sun playing off the water and the sounds of the ocean, Frank let his mind wander and found himself smiling at Joe and his current "obsession" with the curse they were supposedly under.

There were logical explanations for everything that had happened – his flat tire, Joe's injured hand, Vanessa's sprained ankle – and they all would have happened even if Frank and Joe hadn't crossed paths with Cassandra and her mother. Of course Joe would never believe it. As far as his younger brother was concerned, they were doomed for the next several days.

As he left the beach and approached his neighborhood, Frank slowed to a walk, enjoying the peaceful silence. He was looking forward to the Halloween party Callie and Vanessa had planned for Mischief Night and the chance to spend some time with his friends. Given the legend surrounding the old mansion, it would prove to be a very interesting evening and he wryly wondered if anyone would see the ghosts of the previous owners.

Walking up the driveway to his house, he saw Callie coming out the front door. Meeting him in the driveway, she leaned in for a kiss but declined a hug after giving his sweat soaked t-shirt a once over.

"I'm on my way to the grocery store. Anything special you want?"

"No, thanks," Frank replied kissing her on the nose. "I've already got everything I want."

"And people think you aren't romantic." She smiled as she slid into her car and pulled away.

Frank continued on into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom. After a leisurely shower, he dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he picked up the Sunday paper Callie had left on the table and went into the living room. Relaxing on the couch, he picked up the first section and began to read the latest news.

A while later, just as Frank was folding up the paper the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey."

"Callie? Where are you?" Frank asked a little surprised. A simple trip to the grocery store didn't usually warrant a phone call.

"Seems I've had a little accident."

"What?" Frank exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. But my car needs to be towed. Can you come rescue me and the groceries?"

"Of course. But are you sure you're all right?" Frank continued talking to her as he went upstairs to find his shoes.

"Yes, I'm really alright."

"Where are you?" Frank cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tied his sneakers.

"Carson Avenue just past Grant Street."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye."

Frank threw down the phone and rushed out the door. Callie said she was unhurt and she sounded fine, but Frank wouldn't be able to relax until he saw it for himself. Driving as fast as the speed limit allowed through the suburban streets, it took Frank less than five minutes to get to his destination. Getting out of his car, Frank saw Callie standing next to her car, the right front wheel sitting at an odd angle on top of the curb.

Quickly walking over to her, he pulled her into his arms. She returned the tight embrace, reassuring him once again that she was fine. Pulling away, Frank scrutinized his wife carefully until he was satisfied that she had not been injured.

With an arm still wrapped around her shoulder, Frank led Callie towards her car for a closer inspection.

"What happened?" he asked, puzzled.

"A dog ran out in front of me and I swerved to avoid him. Ran up on the curb. Unfortunately, I heard something snap. There are some broken pieces of _something_ under the car." Callie waved in the direction of the car.

Frank released her and got down on his knees examining the ground and the underside of the car. It was obvious something had been damaged when the car made contact with the hard cement, but he wasn't sure what. Standing up, he wiped his hands together to shake off the dirt.

"Well, I'm not the mechanic in the family so I have no idea what it is, but something is definitely in need of repair down there," Frank agreed.

"I already called Triple A. They said a tow truck would be here shortly. Can you help me get the groceries into your car before it gets here?" Callie asked, walking towards the trunk of her car.

Obligingly, Frank followed and they had the bags transferred just as a tow truck pulled up. The driver got out and, after speaking with Frank and Callie for a few moments, he hooked the car up to his truck and headed towards the garage Frank had specified. As it pulled away, Frank got out his cell phone and called Joe. As Callie listened to Frank's side of the conversation, she watched his expression change several times and had to stifle a laugh.

"Joe," Frank said with obviously forced patience, "it has _nothing_ to do with the stupid curse, okay? A dog ran out in front of her and she didn't want to hit it."

Frank listened for a moment then rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Enough, Joe! Can you just call your buddy and let him know Callie's car has been towed to his shop? Tell him we'll be down first thing in the morning."

Callie smiled as she watched Frank throw up a hand in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. If you want to tell him it's the curse go ahead. Personally, I think it was the cement curb that did it, okay? I'm saying goodbye now, Joe. Goodbye." Muttering to himself, Frank flipped the phone shut.

No longer able to hide her amusement, Callie finally laughed out loud. Frank looked at her with a sheepish smile.

"He's convinced it was the curse and not the dog," Frank chuckled.

"You have to admit, he keeps life interesting." Callie put an arm around Frank's waist as they walked back to his car.

"Yes, he does," Frank agreed.

As he started the car and pulled away, Frank shook his head and wondered if anyone else in his family would run into some minor misfortune in the next few days, cementing Joe's conviction that the curse was indeed working.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to everyone who is reading and a special thank you to those who have reviewed! I know how crazy busy life can get so I really do appreciate you taking the time to review. Thank you! :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 5**

Four days later, Frank was at the old mansion unloading the last of the party supplies Callie had packed into the trunk of his car, thankful it was finally Mischief Night. While Frank firmly believed it was just coincidence, the Hardy family had seemed to have a run of back luck ever since Frank and Joe had been "cursed" by Cassandra's mother. Joe's injured hand, Vanessa's sprained ankle and Callie's minor car accident had been followed up with similar events as each new day brought some kind of misfortune to an unsuspecting Hardy.

Monday night Fenton had been slashed in the arm by a purse-snatcher he had chased down, after having dinner with Laura at a downtown restaurant. Luckily the cut hadn't been deep and required only a few stitches to close.

On Tuesday, Laura had accidentally spilled a pot of boiling water, some of which had splashed onto her hand resulting in some minor burns.

The following day, Joe had been sitting in Frank's office, trying to convince him for the umpteenth time that it was all due to the curse. Frank, who had been methodically reading and returning emails while trying to ignore Joe, had gotten distracted by his brother and somehow downloaded a virus onto his computer via an attachment that he never would have opened had he been paying attention to the task at hand. He had watched, stunned, as file after file was deleted from his hard drive.

After banning Joe from his office, he had spent the rest of the day trying to repair the damage, frequently calling Vanessa and Phil for help. He had left for home that night with a splitting headache, muttering about the curse of little brothers.

Juggling the bags, Frank opened the front door and walked into the large foyer. He stopped and looked around admiringly. The house had been transformed into a place any ghost would be proud to haunt.

"You like it?" He heard Callie's voice beside him.

"Wow! You guys did a great job!" Frank replied approvingly, leaning down to kiss her.

"Come on into the ballroom. That's where we have all the tables set up." She led him towards an entryway off to the right.

Following his wife, they descended three steps into a large room with tables against the far wall. He saw Karen, Liz, and Chet setting out a massive array of food and drinks.

"Hey, be sure to leave some for the rest of us," Frank called out, as Chet tried to sneak a few chips into his mouth without being caught.

Approaching the table, he set the bags down and eyed the assortment of goodies they'd be feasting on that evening. Sneaking a small cheese puff, Frank popped it into his mouth, attempting a look of innocence when he saw Callie had caught him.

Shooed away from the food table by his wife, Frank walked to the opposite side of the room where Joe and Biff were on ladders hanging the last of the decorations under Vanessa's watchful eye. He came to a stop next to his brother's girlfriend and leaned in close to her.

"Has he said anything about the you-know-what today?" he murmured, glancing up at his brother.

"No," Vanessa laughed. "But then again, nothing has really gone wrong yet."

"Oh, great. There's still hope," Frank muttered.

Vanessa patted him on the back reassuringly. "I told him to be on his best behavior and not mention the "C" word in front of you."

"Thanks. Do you think he'll listen?"

Vanessa arched an eyebrow in reply, before changing the subject. "Did you get everything restored on your hard drive?"

He sighed. "I'm still missing a few files. I'm hoping Dad or Joe has the ones I need on their computers."

"Hey, it's about time you got here." Joe climbed down off the ladder and walked over to Frank and Vanessa. "Whaddya think?" He slipped an arm around Vanessa's waist and gestured at the decorations he'd just finished hanging.

"Maybe you could start another career as an interior decorator," Frank commented.

"I think they're perfect," Vanessa said, rewarding Joe with a somewhat overzealous kiss.

Rolling his eyes at an oblivious Joe and Vanessa, Frank knew they would be completely wrapped up in each other for the next several minutes. Returning to Callie, Frank received further instructions on what still needed to be done before the rest of their friends arrived.

oooOOOooo

Several hours later, the Halloween party was in full swing, as the ballroom was filled with music, laughter and the occasional scream from the unsuspecting victim of a holiday prank. As Frank sat talking with Phil and Chet, Callie approached them and sat down beside Frank, smiling apologetically.

"Uh-oh. What do you want me to do now?" Frank asked, having seen that smile before.

"It seems Liz has gotten a little spooked by something and wanted to know if you and Joe might investigate," Callie answered. "She insists that every time she goes into the kitchen she can hear a noise from upstairs, like someone is walking around up there."

Chet shook his head emphatically. "The only thing up there is the attic. And no one is allowed up there – it's off limits. I made sure everyone knew that."

"I know, but she's adamant."

"Have _you_ heard anything?" Frank asked.

Callie shrugged. "Yeah I did, but I just assumed that this is a creaky old house."

Just then, Liz came rushing up to them, obviously startled. "That's it. I heard it again! This place _is_ haunted!"

Chet took his girlfriend's hand and squeezed it. "Come on, hon. You know those are just ghost stories."

"Well _something_ is up there and it's making me very nervous. I've been hearing it all night."

Chet turned back to Frank. "Would you mind…"

"Checking it out? No, not at all. But you're the one who has to pull Joe off the dance floor," he said to Liz, jerking his head at the mass of dancing bodies with Joe and Vanessa right in the middle of them.

"Good luck!" Phil laughed.

As Liz was debating how to get Joe's attention, the song ended and she saw Joe and Vanessa heading right for them.

Chet grinned. "Boy, did you luck out."

"What's so funny?" Joe asked, as he and Vanessa joined them.

"I'll explain on the way," Frank answered, standing up and steering Joe out of the room.

Joe looked at him, puzzled. "On the way to where? And why are we leaving the party?"

"We're not. We're just checking out something upstairs."

"I thought upstairs was off limits," Joe commented even as he followed his brother.

"It is. When has that ever stopped us before."

"Good point."

"Liz insists she keeps hearing noises coming from the attic," Frank explained as he turned and started up another set of stairs. "Like someone was walking around up there. She's spooked and wanted to know if we'd check it out."

"And of course you said yes. I was having a good time at the party, ya know."

"And as soon as we check it out and tell her there's nothing up here, you can enjoy it some more." Frank came to the top of the last flight of stairs and stopped in front the attic door. Looking down he saw it had been secured with a heavy pad lock. He stepped aside and smiled at Joe. "It's all yours. You _are_ more proficient at it than I am."

Joe looked at the pad lock then at Frank. "Gee, I forgot to bring my-"

"I didn't." Frank cut him off, pulling a slim case from his pocket and handing it to Joe.

"Why does that not surprise me," Joe muttered, taking the lock picking tools from his brother. In less than a minute, he had removed the lock and opened the door. "After you," he said with a flourish of his hand.

Shaking his head, Frank stepped past Joe into the attic. The full moon shining through the window bathed the room in an eerie glow.

As Frank groped on the wall for a light switch, Joe took a few tentative steps forward. A single overhead bulb suddenly came to life, indicating Frank had found what he was looking for. Almost immediately, Joe began to chuckle.

"Looks like we found our ghost." He pointed to the far corner of the room where a rocking chair sat in front of an open window. A light breeze pushed its way in causing the rocker to move back and forth over the creaking wooden floorboards.

As Frank watched Joe walk towards the open window, he suddenly got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Joe…" he began, but never got to finish his thought. Frank watched in horror as his brother disappeared through a gaping hole that had suddenly opened up in the middle of the floor!


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you to MissMe113, Helen, Mischief, penguincrazy, josie and MissFenway! And yes, any injuries in this story are minor – I promise! ;-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 6**

"Joe!" Frank cried rushing forward, getting as close to the opening in the floor as he dared. "_Joe_?! Answer me!!"

"Frank?" He heard his brother's strained voice and started to breathe again.

Slowly inching forward, Frank peered down into the gaping hole and gasped. Joe was hanging from the end of a piece of wood, swinging precariously as the wood creaked and groaned under his weight. "Joe! Are you all right?"

Joe managed to throw his brother a dirty look. "Oh yeah, Frank, I'm _fine_! Just hanging around, ya know?!"

"Sorry," Frank mumbled, looking around for anything to help him get Joe back on solid ground.

"Um, Frank, if you're not too busy, do you think maybe you could _GET ME OUT OF HERE_!!" Joe yelled.

Frank quickly realized there was nothing of use in the empty attic. "I need to get help. Can you hold on a little longer?"

"Don't have much choice, now do I?" Joe replied through gritted teeth, although his arms were all ready starting to fatigue.

"I'll be right back," Frank called out as he ran from the room.

"I'll wait here," Joe grumbled sarcastically.

Attempting to get a more solid hold on the slim piece of wood, Joe readjusted his grip and yelped in pain when a nail pierced his hand.

oooOOOooo

Rushing down the stairs, Frank came skidding to a stop in the large ballroom as a crowd quickly gathered around him.

"Joe fell through the floor in the attic!" he said breathlessly.

"What?!" Vanessa cried out, immediately heading for the stairs. Frank grabbed her arm pulling her to a stop.

"No, Van, you can't go up there."

"The hell I can't!" She tried to yank her arm free.

"I don't know how stable that floor is! If everyone goes running up there, the whole thing could collapse!"

"But…"

"No buts, Vanessa! Joe is barely hanging on to the end of a two by four! I can't waste time arguing with you about this!" Frank snapped. Seeing the concern for Joe reflected in her eyes, Frank immediately regretted his uncharacteristic outburst of anger. "I'm sorry, Van." He fished his car keys out of his pocket and held them out to her. "If you really want to help, go get the rope out of the trunk of my car."

Wordlessly, Vanessa grabbed the keys and ran out the door.

"Biff, Chet. I need your help pulling him out. Go up and talk to him. Try and keep him calm, but don't get too close to the edge."

"Right." Chet nodded and took off after Biff who was all ready halfway up the stairs.

Seconds later Vanessa returned, handing Frank the rope and keys. As Frank took them from her, he noticed her hands were shaking.

"He'll be fine, Van." Frank squeezed her shoulder reassuringly then turned and disappeared up the stairs.

oooOOOooo

Joe felt the blood start to trickle down his hand making his tenuous grip even more unstable. He closed his eyes and concentrated on nothing but holding on to the small piece of wood.

"Joe?" Biff's voice called out from somewhere above him.

"Down here," Joe replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm. Glancing up he saw Biff looking down at him. Seconds later Chet appeared beside him.

"What, the party wasn't exciting enough for you?" Chet teased.

"Everybody's a comedian," Joe mumbled, his patience wearing thin. "Where the hell is Frank?!"

"Right here, bro." Frank reappeared, a coil of rope now hanging from his shoulder. "One more minute and we'll have you out."

Joe glared at him, the muscles in his arms and back now screaming to be relieved of their burden. "Take your time."

Motioning Biff and Chet away from the hole, Frank explained his plan.

"Biff, I need you to anchor the rope."

"No problem." Biff nodded.

"Whatever you do, don't let go," Frank warned. "Joe can be a pain in the butt sometimes, but I'm kind of used to having him around."

"I heard that!" Joe's voice echoed out of the hole.

Frank continued with his instructions, ignoring Joe's comment. "Chet, I was just going to throw him the rope and have you and I pull him up to the edge so he could climb out."

"Okay," Chet replied in agreement, but Frank was shaking his head, having noticed the blood on the wood and Joe's hands when he had returned.

"It won't work now. Joe's hands are bloody. He'll never be able to get a good grip." Frank glanced at the slick, hardwood floor. "If he tried to climb out himself, he'd fall right back over the edge."

"So you want me to pull him out," Chet guessed.

"Yes. He can grab on to the rope and we'll get him close to the edge, but he'll need your help to climb all the way out."

"Let's do it then."

While Frank and Chet had been talking, Biff had tied a loop on one end of the rope and anchored the other end around his waist.

"Ready," he said, handing the rope to Frank.

Walking as close to the edge as he dared, Frank gazed down at his younger brother and winced. Joe's hands were now quite bloody, his face was glistening with sweat and his blonde hair was stuck to his forehead.

"Ready, Joe?" he asked.

"Gee, no, Frank. I kinda like it here. Thought I'd hang around a little longer." Joe's reply was sarcastic, but Frank could still hear the tension in his voice.

"When Chet throws the rope down, grab it and put your hands through the loop so you won't lose your grip," Frank instructed. "Biff and I will get you close to the edge and Chet will pull you out. You don't have to do anything but hang on, okay?"

Joe simply grunted a reply, his strength almost gone.

"Here it comes," Frank warned. He handed the rope to Chet, then walked back a few steps and positioned himself in front of Biff. "Okay, Chet, go ahead."

Carefully, Chet threw the rope towards Joe, hoping he could catch it on the first try.

Watching intently, Joe never took his eyes off the rope. As it came towards him, his left hand flashed out catching it. He let out a muffled cry of pain as the nail in the wood dug deeper into his right hand.

"He got it!" Chet cried out for Frank and Biff's benefit as they couldn't see what was happening. "Hang on, he's about to let go of the wood."

Biff and Frank braced themselves and a few seconds later were dragged forward several inches as Joe's full body weight pulled on the rope.

"Pull!" Frank grunted. It seemed to be an agonizingly slow process but, little by little, they pulled Joe ever closer to the edge until Chet could finally see Joe's hands, tightly gripping the rope, pop into view.

Chet scrambled to the edge of the hole. "A little more!" As soon as the top of Joe's head appeared, Chet reached down and grabbed him under the arms. Grimacing from the effort, Chet yanked and pulled, grunting and groaning, until both he and Joe flopped down on the floor at Frank's feet, breathing heavily.

Quickly, Frank removed the rope from his brother's wrists. While Joe rolled over onto his back, trying to catch his breath, Frank gently examined Joe's hands and cringed.

Biff winced as he looked over Frank's shoulder. "Want me to see if there's a first aid kit here?"

"Yeah. If not, there's one in my car." Frank absently offered his keys.

"Joe? You okay, bro?" Frank asked concerned. Joe had yet to move or even open his eyes. He simply lay on the floor trying to catch his breath and slow his racing heart.

"Yeah, just gimme a minute." The adrenaline rush was gone and now Joe lay on the floor, exhausted, his hands throbbing with pain as the reality of the situation suddenly washed over him.

"Sure. You just lay there and take it easy." Frank replied, patting his shoulder. "Biff will be right back with the first aid kit and we'll get you fixed up."

Standing, Frank walked to the edge of the hole and squatted down examining it carefully. Standing up, he slowly walked around the perimeter of the hole staring intently at the edges of it. Twice he stopped and bent down, running his hands over the exposed wood.

"What?" Chet asked warily. He was now sitting up and watching Frank's inspection, instantly recognizing the look on his friend's face.

"Nothing," Frank mumbled vaguely, still concentrating on the perfect hole in the floor.

"Hmph." Chet grunted, knowing something had aroused Frank's suspicions but he wouldn't say anything about it until he was good and ready.

Hearing Frank and Chet's very limited conversation, Joe's curiosity got the better of him and he propped himself up on his elbows. Watching his older brother stare at the hole as if it contained the secrets of the universe, he repeated Chet's simple query. "What?"

Before Frank could answer, footsteps were heard running up the stairs announcing Biff's return. To Frank's surprise, Vanessa was right behind him. Frank opened his mouth to speak and immediately snapped it shut as Vanessa gave him a look that could easily put him six feet under. Rushing to Joe's side, Vanessa knelt beside him.

"Joe, you're hurt!" she cried out, seeing the blood on his hands.

"Just a flesh wound," he smiled at her.

"Don't you worry," Vanessa said earnestly. "I'll have you patched up in no time."

"Thanks, Babe," Joe replied as Vanessa leaned in to give him a reassuring kiss before she started to clean and bandage his hands.

Joe watched her, almost amused at the deep concentration on her face as she examined his wounds. While he never liked getting hurt and hated it when Vanessa worried about him, Joe still reveled in being the center of her attention as he was now.

"So what happened?" Biff asked no one in particular, now peering down into the black hole as he stood next to Frank.

"I fell through the floor," Joe replied stating the obvious. "It's that stupid curse."

Frank turned and rolled his eyes at his brother. "Joe, there is _no curse_! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Then how do you explain – _OUCH!!"_ Joe cried out, yanking his hands away from Vanessa. "Hey, that hurts!"

"Now, now. Be a big boy," Vanessa said patting his shoulder while trying to bite back a smile.

"I think you're actually enjoying this," Joe growled. "Go easy on the antiseptic, huh, Babe?"

"You don't want them to get infected, do you?" Vanessa asked, innocently.

"Can't be any worse than that stuff you just poured on them," Joe said sourly.

"What's the matter, little brother? Can't take a little pain?" Frank teased.

"I wouldn't be in _any_ pain if it weren't for the-" Joe began.

"_DON'T_ say it!" Frank said exasperated, once again walking slowly around the opening in the floor.

"What are you looking at, Frank?! You're starting to make me dizzy!" Joe asked, frustrated.

"Come here and see for yourself."

"All done," Vanessa announced, giving her boyfriend a kiss. Closing the first aid kit, she stood up and then leaned over, grasping Joe's arm. "Let me give a hand," she said, helping Joe to his feet.

"Thanks again, Babe." Joe pulled her close to him awkwardly and planted a kiss on her lips.

"If you two are done with the lip locks you might want to take a look at this, Joe," Frank said, now annoyed.

"We'll go downstairs and let everyone know Joe is okay," Biff said as he and Chet headed for the door.

Joe walked over and stood a few steps behind his older brother. "What am I looking at?"

"You need to get a little closer." Frank squatted down once again.

"I've already seen it up close and personal, thanks."

Frank looked back over his shoulder at Joe and Vanessa as he ran his hand along the edge of the hole. "It's smooth. Too smooth to have been an accident. The floor was deliberately cut."

"You mean someone _wanted_ Joe to fall through the floor?!" Vanessa asked, shocked. "Why?"

"Well, whoever did it wanted _someone_ to fall through the floor." Frank stood up and looked at the rocker in the corner, perfectly positioned in front of the open window. "The rocker moves when the wind hits it, the floor creaks, everyone thinks there's someone up here. And who goes to investigate?" Frank asked, now looking at his brother.

"Who else – the Hardys, as usual." Joe replied, angrily. "We were set up!"


	7. Chapter 7

Time Guardian: Nope that wasn't 'The End'. Two more chapters including this one. ;-)

MissMe113: LOL! I've been told that before, that I can't be trusted when it comes to 'Joe owies'! :p I had to laugh at your fear of the rocking chair!!

Josie: Whaddya mean sarcasm will get you nowhere?? LOL! And Joe is convinced the curse is responsible for _everything_. ;-)

Helen: Thank you!! This was my first attempt at humor that was longer than one scene! LOL! Glad it worked. :-)

Miss Fenway: Glad you enjoyed the chapter! And the Phils could win it all tonight!!! :o :D

Whitetigers: And do we know anyone who is MORE unlucky than the Hardys?? :p I think Frank would have regretted letting Joe try to get everything back on his computer! :o How does Joe get himself into these messes? It's a gift! :D

TraSan: Is it a trap?? Hmmm… ;-)

Thanks for all the great reviews! Thank you to all those who are reading. :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 7**

Frank side-stepped the gaping hole in the floor, approached the open window that had helped lure the Hardy's to the attic and poked his head out. The grounds of the mansion were illuminated by the full moon, but he could see nothing unusual. Just to be thorough, Frank looked up not really expecting to see anything but the roof and was surprised to see a length of rope hanging down just within reach of the window.

"Joe. Come here and take a look at this." Frank pulled himself back through the window and pointed upwards.

Carefully skirting the hole in the floor, Joe and Vanessa joined Frank at the window. Joe stuck his head out the window and looked up. The rope was swaying gently in the light breeze. Retreating back into the room he looked at his brother. "Why would someone leave a rope dangling from the roof like that?"

"There's only one reason I can think of," Frank replied, now convinced he and Joe had been set up.

"And that would be…." Joe prodded his brother, hating when Frank didn't fully explain what he was thinking.

"To lure whichever one of us didn't fall through the floor, up to the roof."

"Uh, Frank, you're not thinking of climbing up there are you?" Vanessa asked, slight concern in her voice. "Just to check it out?"

"As a matter of fact-"

"No!" Joe shook his head adamantly. "No way, Frank! That roof is steep, the footing is bad and you'll be walking right into their trap."

Frank shrugged. "And since I know it's a trap, I'll have the advantage."

"Why?" Joe protested, concerned that Frank was willingly opening himself up to whatever their as yet unknown enemy had planned. "That's reckless and a stupid thing to do!"

"Uh… pot? Kettle? Black?" Frank couldn't help but smile. "I'll be careful, Joe. Don't worry. I just want to see if there's anything – or _anyone_ - up there."

"Well, I don't like it one bit," Joe announced, as Frank swung one leg out over the windowsill and maneuvered his upper body out the window.

Reaching up, Frank was just able to grab the edge of the rope, which had been tied into a sliding loop. Pulling it tight around his wrist, Frank positioned his other hand farther up the rope and placed his feet on the windowsill. With one pull upwards, Frank swung his foot up onto the roof and leveraged the rest of his body up, until he was lying on his stomach on the steep slope.

Carefully, Frank pushed himself up to his knees and looked around. He could see the rope was tightly secured around the chimney. Taking in the rest of the roof, he could see it went off in several different directions, covering the large mansion, with steep angles all around. It would be almost impossible for anyone to get around up there and very easy to fall off.

Seeing nothing but the rope tied around the chimney, his curiosity was satisfied. Frank took hold of the rope once again and gently lowered himself over the edge of the roof. Feeling for the windowsill, he placed first one foot on the edge and then the other. Just as he released the rope, one of his feet slipped off the windowsill!

"Frank!!" he heard Joe cry out.

Instinctively, Frank threw himself forward towards the window, but quickly lost his footing completely. With a cry, he grabbed for anything solid, his fingers just skimming the edge of the window. For a split second, he panicked as he realized he was about to fall four stories to the hard cement below, when suddenly he was jerked to a stop.

It took a moment for Frank to realize his fall had been halted in mid-air and that he was now swaying back and forth. Looking up he saw Joe, his upper body hanging out the window, holding tightly to Frank's arm.

"Grab my arm with your other hand." Joe grimaced as the cuts on his hands began to protest.

"Just get me close enough to grab the windowsill," Frank called out, realizing Joe wouldn't be able to hold onto him very long if the wounds on his hands reopened.

With a heavy grunt, Joe pulled Frank upwards. As Joe's upper body disappeared through the open window, another set of arms came out grasping Frank's forearms. With the added help, Frank was quickly pulled up to the windowsill and over the edge back into the attic.

Collapsing on the floor, Frank leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, willing his heart to start beating again.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked.

Frank nodded, finally opening his eyes and glanced to his right. Vanessa was hovering next to Joe, examining the bandages on his hands. Frank scooted closer to his brother, gently taking one of Joe's hands and leaning in for a better look. He saw the white bandages were now stained with red. "Oh, man, I'm sorry, Joe."

"Don't worry about it." Joe winked. "I'm sure my private nurse will have me fixed up in no time."

"Absolutely." Vanessa got up to retrieve the first aid kit that still lay on the floor on the other side of the room and quickly returned to Joe's side. She carefully removed the bandages and picked up the bottle of antiseptic, when Joe pulled his hands away.

"Go easy on that stuff," he said warily. "It burns."

"Spoken like a true tough guy," Frank grinned.

"Watch it or I'll push you back out that window myself….OW!!!" Joe yelped, trying to pull his hands back. "You did that on purpose!"

"Who, me?" Vanessa asked, turning innocent grey eyes on him. "I just want to make sure your hands are nice and clean before I re-bandage them."

"You just cleaned them five minutes ago," Joe scowled. "Just put the bandages on, huh?"

Vanessa finished up, closing the first aid kit. Leaning in, she gently pressed her lips against Joe's. "All better," she murmured.

"Thanks," Joe replied, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

"Here we go again." Frank rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet. "We need to call the police. And Dad." He was totally ignored by his younger brother.

Walking towards the door, he called to Joe over his shoulder. "I'll meet you downstairs…" He paused waiting for a reply, but heard none.

"….if you ever come up for air," he growled and made his way down the stairs, mumbling something about public displays of affection.

Joe and Vanessa, in their own little world, didn't even know Frank had left…


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to penguincrazy, MissMe113, josie, Miss Fenway, Helen, TraSan, violetsunshine, and everyone who reviewed this story! Hope you enjoy the conclusion. :-)

**The Curse**

**Chapter 8**

Frank made his way back to the party and discreetly rounded up Callie and their friends, leading the small group outside. As Biff, Karen, Chet, Liz, Tony and Phil gathered around, he quickly explained what had happened after Biff and Chet left the attic, reassuring Callie he was fine.

"So you think an old enemy might be out for revenge?" Tony asked.

"I don't know what else it could be."

"It could be the curse," Joe said, walking up behind Frank.

Frank closed his eyes, silently counted to ten and reminded himself Joe had just saved his life and it was against the law to murder your own brother.

"Remember, she said the unthinkable would occur on all Hallow's Eve," Joe continued. "I'd say falling through the floor and taking a tumble out the attic window is pretty unthinkable."

Everyone remained silent, waiting for Frank's response. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his cell phone and began dialing, pointedly ignoring Joe. "I'm calling Dad. Someone we put in prison several years ago, Harold Kruziak, was recently paroled. He had threatened to kill us as soon as he got out."

When his father answered, Frank explained what had happened and then listened, responding with an "uh-huh", "yes" or "no" when appropriate. "Yes, okay. We will. Bye."

Frank ended the call and handed the phone to Chet. "Dad said to call the realtor and let them know what happened. He's on his way. He's going to call Con and ask him to come, too. "

Chet looked at the phone as if it would bite, making no move to take it from Frank.

"Do I have to?" he asked uncomfortably. "No one was supposed to be up in the attic to begin with."

"That didn't seem to bother you when you wanted us to check out the noise," Frank reminded him, forcing the cell phone on him. "Now call."

Reluctantly, Chet took the phone and made the call to the number he'd been given to use for emergencies.

Turning, Frank looked at Joe warningly. "When Con gets here, _I'll_ do the talking."

As Frank looked away, Joe stuck his tongue out at Frank's back, causing Vanessa to erupt in giggles. Slowly, Frank gazed back over his shoulder at Joe and looked at him accusingly.

"What?" Joe asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

"You really think it's that Kruziak guy?" Phil asked Frank, returning to the previous topic of conversation.

Frank glared at his younger brother. "Well, I certainly don't think it's the curse."

"But how did he know we'd be here tonight?" Joe asked. "And how did he get into the attic, carrying whatever he needed to cut the floor, _and_ get up on the roof, without being noticed?"

"I don't know," Frank admitted, "but it's the only _logical_ explanation," he finished, putting an emphasis on the word logical.

Silence descended on the group as they waited, broken by the occasional murmur between couples.

Finally, a pair of headlights appeared and slowly made their way up the long driveway, immediately followed by a second pair. The first car came to a stop and Fenton Hardy emerged. He waited as the second car pulled to a stop and Con Riley got out. The two men walked over to the group of young people.

"Are you both all right?" Fenton asked his sons.

"Yes, we're fine, Dad," Frank replied.

"Oh, really?" Fenton glanced at Joe's bandaged hands and arched an eyebrow.

"I've been well taken care of," Joe assured him, giving Vanessa a peck on the cheek.

Con pulled a small notebook and a pen from his pocket, then looked from Frank to Joe. "Okay, who wants to start?"

"I'll start," Frank answered. "_And_ finish."

Before he could get started, however, Sarah Glades from the realty company that owned the house arrived. Getting out of her car, she rushed over to the small group.

"I understand someone was hurt! What happened?" she asked concerned.

"Ah, just a flesh wound." Joe smiled, holding up his bandaged hands.

"How did it happen?" Sarah asked, peering at Joe's hands.

"An old enemy of ours apparently got into the house sometime before we arrived and cut a hole into the attic floor," Frank explained to the woman, still convinced Harold Kruziak was the culprit. "Liz and Callie kept hearing a creaking sound, like someone was walking around up there, so we went up to investigate. A rocking chair had been placed in front of an open window. The breeze coming in through the window caused the rocker to move and the floor to creak. When Joe started to walk across the room towards the window, he fell through a deliberately cut hole in the floor."

As Frank started to explain the rope leading up to the roof, Sarah interrupted his rundown with a shocking surprise. "That hole in the floor of the attic _was_ deliberately cut," she said, obviously annoyed. "By our _construction crew_! We're renovating the attic _and_ the basement, and building a large spiral staircase to connect the two. The foreman likes to sit in the rocker and enjoy the view out the window when he eats lunch." She turned her icy gaze on Chet. "You were specifically told the attic and the basement were off limits when you booked this party. It's in the agreement you signed. The door to the attic is padlocked from the outside. How did they get in?"

"Oops," Joe mumbled as he heard his father groan in understanding. Joe slunk down, attempting to hide behind Vanessa.

"Joe…" he heard his father's stern voice.

"Well, Frank told me to do it!" Joe replied sounding for all the world like a six year old who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Joe!" Frank yelled.

"Well, you did!"

"Can somebody please explain to me what's going on?!" Sarah finally asked in exasperation.

"I believe my son picked the lock to get into the attic." Fenton's eyes never wavered from Joe. "Is that right, Joe?"

"Yes," Joe said dejectedly, quickly adding. "But Frank told me to!" Fenton continued staring at his son with a look Joe knew all too well. Sighing, he turned to Sarah. "I'm sorry about picking the lock." He apologized and flashed his most charming smile.

She studied Joe for a moment trying to decide if the apology was sincere. "Apology accepted," she finally replied. "But the fact that you got hurt is your own fault. They weren't supposed to be up there," she reminded Fenton.

"Agreed," Fenton responded.

"Well, the renovations explain the hole in the floor," Frank admitted, grudgingly.

"That part of the house is directly over the basement. There are no floors in between," Sarah explained further.

"I can vouch for that," Joe cracked.

"We thought a spiral staircase spanning several levels would be a nice addition to the house. And it would open up the use of the attic and basement once the renovations are complete."

Fenton sighed, gazing at his two sons. "Well, it looks like that mystery has been cleared up."

"But it doesn't explain the rope," Frank said, refusing to give up on his theory. "After we pulled Joe up out of the hole in the floor, we checked out the open window. There was a rope hanging down from the roof, just above the window. I climbed up the rope…"

"_WHAT_?!" Sarah cried out in disbelief, then whirled on Fenton. "Are your sons always this much trouble?"

"If she only knew," Con commented under his breath. He had put away his pen and notebook several minutes earlier and was now watching in amusement as Frank and Joe tried to talk their way out of the situation.

"That rope was put there by the construction crew!" Sarah explained, her patience wearing thin. "Some of the equipment they needed to cut the floor was too heavy to carry up all those stairs. They used a crane and the rope to get the heavy equipment in through the window."

"Oh," Frank replied, meekly. "So there was no mystery? No hidden meaning? No plot to kill us?" he asked his father, now feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

"I wouldn't say that," Fenton replied, as amused as Con was but trying not to let it show. "I do think there is a hidden meaning here."

"Really?" Frank perked up, hoping to salvage a little bit of pride.

"The hidden meaning is… you two need to learn how to relax and have some fun." He smiled. "Stop seeing something sinister around every corner."

Frank and Joe exchanged embarrassed grins as the small gathering broke out into laughter followed by some good-natured teasing.

After Frank and Joe apologized to Sarah once again, she agreed not to shut down their party as long as they agreed to stay out of the attic and basement. Satisfied, she got into her car and returned home. The rest of the young people returned to the party, while Frank and Joe walked their father and Con to their cars.

Con looked at the brothers, shaking his head and muttering something about trouble and magnets, before getting into his car and driving away.

Climbing into his car, Fenton Hardy rolled down the window, looked at his sons and sighed. "Now do you two think you can manage to stay out of trouble for the rest of the evening?"

Frank opened his mouth to answer and was drowned out by the sound of the massive grandfather clock in the entranceway of the house as it chimed twelve times announcing the arrival of midnight.

"I can guarantee it," Joe said confidently.

Frank and Fenton both looked at him, confused.

"It's midnight." He grinned mischievously. "No more curse."

"That's it, Joe!" Frank advanced on his younger brother. "I told you _NOT_ to mention that word again!"

"But…but…" Joe stammered, quickly backing away from Frank, realizing nothing he could come up with would pacify Frank this time.

As Joe took off running towards the house with his brother in hot pursuit, Fenton erupted in laughter wondering if Joe would be the final victim of the curse, having met his untimely demise at the hands of an older brother who had been pushed too far…

The End

Happy Halloween! :D


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